


oh, someday

by narryblossom



Series: the farm au [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Domestic Fluff, Engagement, Established Relationship, M/M, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 17:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19795282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narryblossom/pseuds/narryblossom
Summary: This really is everything Harry wanted. Having a big house full of love and Niall by his side-- Harry never wants this to end.A couple days later when Thanksgiving dinner is nearly ready, Harry thinks he might actually be ready for this to end after all. Maybe just take a short break before he rips all his hair out.





	oh, someday

**Author's Note:**

> This is an insert for the farm au that just didn't fit into the original fic!! You can read this independently and it will still make sense (minus the mention of relationship turmoil).

Harry holds his breath and opens the front door-- it’s silent, the creak is gone, and Harry is proud of himself for remembering to oil the hinges before he went to the airport. He never in his life thought he’d be embarrassed by a creaky door, and now he doesn’t have to be. Now he only wishes that he had time to rearrange the living room before his family arrived. He’d turn the L shaped couch against the wall opposite the window, move the TV stand to the corner, put a huge Christmas tree up right in front of the window so the lights twinkle out on the porch and maybe on some snow later in the season.

Niall wouldn’t let him put up the tree yet, though. Told him “it’s only November” even though if Harry had his way, he’d decorate for Christmas right after Halloween. They made a compromise, though, so Harry gets to put up the Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving while his family is still visiting. It’ll go right where he wants it and even when his family has gone home, he’ll have a nice memory of them.

“Oh, boys,” Anne gasps, peering in while shaking her umbrella off outside the doorway. “This is lovely.”

“Thank you,” Harry says, holding the door wide open so Anne, Gemma, and finally Niall can walk in before him.

Maybe the house is fine the way it is, actually. None of the furniture matches, there aren’t many decorations, and some of their DIY repairs aren’t necessarily high quality, but it’s finally starting to feel like a home rather than a big, old house, and Harry’s heart swells with pride when his mum compliments it.

“Yep,” Niall huffs, heaving both Gemma and Anne’s bags in with him. “Harry picked it out himself.”

Harry pauses in the doorway and Niall’s eyes meet his expectantly; that split second waiting for either one to respond feels heavy, but Niall doesn't say anything else, just gives Harry an apologetic smile.

Harry finally closes the door as a draft starts to seep in, bringing the dampness of the rain with it.

“Sorry,” he mumbles more to himself than anyone else. Niall shrugs and sits Gemma’s suitcase at the end of the sofa while he rebalances Anne’s duffle bag on his shoulder.

“Nice and warm in here,” Niall sighs, content to be home again instead of stuck in traffic at the overcrowded Chicago airport.

“Mhm,” Gemma hums eagerly, peeling off her coat. “Are you lovebirds gonna show us around your nest, then?”

“Of course,” Harry drawls, again looking toward Niall for his confirmation.

“I’ll take their bags up,” Niall says. “You go on and start showing 'em around; I'll join you after.”

Harry says a soft “okay, thank you” and hopes he doesn’t sound disappointed as Niall walks away, leaving Anne and Gemma expectantly waiting for the tour.

“I’ll show you my favorite room first,” Harry says, walking out of the entryway/living room combo, leading them down the hall to the right and into a room on the left.

“This is the dining room,” he says, turning the dimmer light switch. The three of them stand side by side in the grandiose doorway while the chandelier brightens until the polished mahogany table glistens in the light.

“I never thought I would fall in love with a dining set but I just can’t stop staring at it,” Harry admits. “It’s part of the reason I wanted this house so much; there were so many really beautiful old pieces of furniture that came with it.”

“I don’t blame you, love,” Anne says, “I’ve always liked antiques as well. Do you and Niall actually eat on this table?”

“Not really,” Harry admits sheepishly. “We’re kind of afraid to get it dirty. We usually eat at the little breakfast table in the kitchen since it’s just the two of us.

“I spend a lot of time in here, though,” he adds, “just kinda… sitting and gazing out the window at the chickens or the sky, or sometimes I write songs in here, but usually I do those at the piano.”

“Is it as grand in person as it is in photos?” Gemma asks.

“I think so,” Harry chuckles, backing out of the room. He goes to the next room on the opposite side of the hall. He turns on an equally impressive chandelier that lights up walls lined with shelves of books, awards, and knickknacks. In the centre of the room is a sleek, black grand piano.

“Another thing that came with the house,” he says, gesturing toward it. “Niall’s gotten really good at playing piano lately. I’ve still got some catching up to do, but it’s good for figuring out notes and stuff.”

Harry watches as both Anne and Gemma sit on the piano bench and run their fingers along the keys. They press a few and make unattractive noises, but the sound mixed with their laughter fills the room with joy.

Harry doesn’t talk again until his mother and sister tire of flat notes and look to him for the next step in their tour.

“There’s not much else downstairs, honestly. A laundry room, bathroom, and the kitchen of course, but I figured we could make dinner after the tour so I could just show that to you last.”

“That sounds good,” Anne says, following as Harry starts out of the room.

“Your laundry isn’t in the kitchen, is it?” Gemma asks. “I almost forgot that American houses have separate rooms.”

“I was surprised that the house had a laundry room at all since it’s so old,” Harry says, opening the door beside the piano room so his family can peek their heads into the long, narrow space. “Apparently the last couple that lived here just kinda took a chunk out of the last room and the porch so they could put the machines here and have more room in the downstairs bathroom.”

“Well… at least the bathroom is spacious then,” Anne concludes.

“Mhm, it’s better than the one upstairs-- up there it’s like this, long but really narrow. We might remodel it someday but it’s, um… not really in the budget right now.”

Anne and Gemma politely don’t prod at Harry’s financial business, so he takes them upstairs, straightening carefully tied cinnamon sticks and pine cones along the banister as he goes, earning a nice little compliment from his mum on his decorative choice.

“So, about your room,” Harry drawls, “It’s not exactly the nicest _decor wise,_ and we’ve got you two sharing a room ‘cause Niall’s parents are coming and they need separate rooms, so…”

“That’s fine, love.”

“I don’t mind rooming with Mum,” Gemma agrees.

“Another thing,” Harry sighs, opening the door. “There’s only one bed. We can run out and get an air mattress if one of you wants it, though.”

The girls go into the room and don’t bat an eye at the blank walls, sparse furniture, or single queen bed.

“Harry, darling, this is perfectly fine,” Anne insists. “You don’t have to impress us.”

“I know,” Harry pouts, leaning in the doorway, “I just wanted it to be nice, though. Everything is so expensive and I’ve bled our budget dry-- I don’t know how Niall hasn’t cut me off yet.”

“I just don’t mind to,” Niall speaks up from the hallway, startling Harry enough to make him jump.

“You know when to stop on your own,” Niall chuckles, sliding his hand under Harry’s unbuttoned coat to rest on his lower back. “Usually,” he adds. “You _usually_ know when to stop.”

Harry’s cheeks twinge with the lightest shade of red as he bashfully turns to rest his forehead against the side of Niall’s head. He feels the slightest indication of Niall rubbing his back and he relaxes into his touch.

“I’m gonna go for some last minute groceries before Thanksgiving; do you ladies want me to pick anything up for you?”

Anne hums aloud while she thinks (just like Harry does), and in the meantime Niall whispers to Harry.

“Aren’t you warm with your coat on in the house?”

“Not really,” Harry whispers back, rubbing his nose into Niall’s hair. “I’m cozy.”

“Oh, you’ll have to make us a big American breakfast while we’re here,” Anne finally says.

“And it’s gotta look just like the food in the commercials. I’ll be judging,” Gemma quips.

“Of course, absolutely,” Niall says so very seriously. “I’ll make sure we have everything for that. Is there anything else?”

“Oh, please tell me you have sugar and cream for coffee or tea. I know you drink it black, you weirdo,” Gemma says to her brother, “but I just don’t roll that way.”

“Neither do I,” Niall admits, “so I’ll make sure we’re stocked.

“I’ll be back soon,” Niall says softly, turning his head toward Harry, and Harry finally moves his head to face him, waiting for the kiss that he knows Niall will offer before he goes.

“Okay,” Harry breathes out after a soft peck, letting go of Niall reluctantly. “I’ll be here.”

“Nice to know.” Niall smizes, and as he walks away, Harry watches his figure shrink down the stairs, biting down the smile on his face. When he turns back around, his mum and sister are staring at him expectantly.

“So? Things are good between you two again, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry says softly, reaching up to run his fingers along his lip, still trying to cover a giddy smile. “We’re… good.”

“You’re not fighting anymore?”

“It wasn’t really _fighting_ ,” Harry mumbles, not meeting his sister’s eye.

“You know what I mean,” she retorts. “You’re not… doing whatever anymore?”

“No. We’re not tense anymore, we’ve been going out sometimes, we’re intimate regularly-- we’re _better_ than good actually--”

“Ohhh my god, okay Harry, that’s enough,” Gemma laughs, passing him to go into the hallway.

“I knew you would be alright, love,” Anne says, wrapping her arm around her son’s back as he turns to follow Gemma into the hall. “That boy is crazy about you.”

“I’m crazy about him,” Harry sighs, mimicking his mum’s half-hug. “Don’t know what I’d do if I lost him.”

“Well why don’t you marry him then?” Gemma suggests flippantly, flicking a lightswitch in the bathroom she wanders into. “But show us the rest of the house first.”

Harry thinks getting married doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

♥♥♥

When Niall gets back from the store, he and a rotating team of Anne and Gemma make dinner. Harry _would_ help but it’s Niall’s turn to cook and if Harry goes into the kitchen the couple would get too distracted by one another and end up burning everyone’s meal. Harry does set the formal dining table though, quite happily, and Niall makes sure to mention how lovely it looks when they all sit down, making Harry beam.

After dinner Harry more or less takes over Niall’s space, crawling on top of him while the family settles into the living room to watch a movie or two and continue catching up before bed.

“Hello pet,” Niall mumbles, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulders. Harry burrows in closer, hooking both of his legs over Niall’s lap and leaning as far over as he can so that he can press his face against Niall’s neck.

“Hi,” Harry whispers back. Up close Niall can smell the wine on his breath and isn’t surprised at all at how cuddly he is. One more glass at dinner and he’d be drunk, but now he’s in a pleasant buzz.

“Did you eat enough?” Niall presses a kiss to the top of Harry’s head, and Harry nods.

“Yeah. It was really good. Thank you for dinner.”

“It was my pleasure, darling.”

“Did _you_ eat enough?”

“I did,” Niall says, shifting just a bit so he can rub his hand on his stomach. “I’m full and sleepy. I don’t know how I’m gonna make it after Thanksgiving dinner if I’m this tired after normal dinner.”

Harry chuckles softly, and Niall pulls him closer, right up into his lap.

“You’re very cuddly,” Harry says, leaning against Niall’s chest.

“You’re warm and soft and pretty. I’m a simple man, I can’t resist.”

“Alright, lover boys,” Gemma cuts in. “What are we gonna watch?”

“A Christmas film!” Harry says immediately, and Niall groans.

 _“No,_ it’s November.”

“Some of us like to have Christmas spirit in November, Niall.”

“I’ve got to agree with Haribo on this one. I’ve been in the mood for cheesy Christmas films lately.”

 _“No,_ Gem, not you too! I’ve been trying to keep Harry off of Christmas movies since Halloween.

“Anne, help me out?” Niall asks, peeking around Harry’s shoulder to see Anne smiling fondly at the group.

“I don’t care what we watch, love,” she starts, “though I do love a holiday film.”

Niall groans, long and exaggerated, and drops his head onto the back of the couch, closing his eyes.

“You Styles’ are gonna kill me.”

“Harry’s made you a drama queen, Horan,” Gemma laughs.

Harry cups Niall’s jaw and brushes his thumb across Niall’s stubble. It coaxes him to peek one eye open.

“Yes, pet?”

“You _love_ Christmas films,” Harry says. “Which one do you wanna watch?”

“Elf.”

“Already on it,” Gemma says in the background.

“You’re cute when you’re dramatic,” Harry says softly, still cupping Niall’s cheek.

“You kiddin’?” Niall scoffs playfully. “I’m always cute.”

Harry crinkles his nose and chortles, and Niall darts forward to peck his chin.

“Let me know if I get too heavy,” Harry whispers when the movie starts.

“Never.”

He starts to protest but Niall cuts him off.

“Shh, watch the movie.”

As it turns out, it’s quite hard for Harry to focus on a movie when Niall keeps hugging him and kissing him and whispering vaguely naughty things in his ear. They’re lucky Niall manages to pass off his mumbling as quoting the movie in Harry’s ear to bug him, otherwise Anne wouldn’t shy away from giving them a talking-to about proper conduct when other people are around.

“You wanna take this upstairs?” Niall mumbles as the credits roll.

“That is the plan, Niall,” Harry whispers, following up, matter-of-factly and louder: “It’s time for bed.”

Anne and Gemma are already shuffling out of the room, agreeing by saying their goodbyes and goodnights.

“It’s only 9 o’clock,” Niall points out, petting Harry’s thigh. “We’ve got time for other stuff.”

“The girls are jet lagged. Bed time.”

“For them,” he drawls.

“We’ve gotta be _quiet_ ,” Harry insists softly once the girls are well past the top of the stairs. He turns in Niall’s lap and squirms on purpose and watches Niall hiss and furrow his brow. “And I don’t think you’re gonna be able to stay quiet, are you?”

“I’m sure I can. We used to when we were in a flat in LA, didn’t we?”

“I suppose,” Harry trails off. His gaze wanders down Niall’s jaw and neck, but he puts his hand on Niall’s chest and holds him off when he tries to lean in for a kiss, saying seriously “but it feels weird doing it when my family is here.”

“Yeah, but you know it’s gonna be even weirder when _both_ our families are here. Don’t know if I can resist you a whole week, love.”

Harry bites his lip and considers it while Niall starts combing his fingers through Harry’s hair.

“I love it when you do that,” Harry purrs.

“I know, petal,” Niall croons. “Why don’t we take a shower-- downstairs bathroom-- and get ready for bed, and if anything happens…” he trails off.

Harry smirks softly and nods, tilting his head back and gasping softly when Niall pulls his hair. “Maybe the water will drown out the sound. Meet you there.”

“Oh, I’m right behind you,” Niall says, smacking Harry’s bum as he gets up.

“Nooo, I need you to go upstairs and get those fluffy towels I really like.” Harry smiles innocently when Niall glares at him. “Pleaaaase.”

“Oh sure,” Niall scoffs, “make the guy with the hard-on risk walking past his in-laws.”

Harry’s heart beats more prominently in his chest when Niall calls his mother and sister his _in-laws_ , but he doesn't let it distract him from the matter at hand.

“Well,” Harry drawls. “Maybe we can skip the shower and I can just blow you in the bathroom with the water running as background noise?”

“Wasteful,” Niall tsks, already dragging Harry out of the room. “Stinky. It’s like you don’t even care about the water bill.”

♥♥♥

Niall carefully balances two mugs in one hand and one in the other while shuffling out of the kitchen onto the back porch. Gemma notices, catches the door for him and holds it open, and gratefully takes a coffee after Niall smiles and sighs out a thanks.

“Thank _you,”_ she says over the rim. “I needed this.”

“Thank you, love,” Anne says when she gets her cup.

“Didn’t want to join H with the chickens then?” Niall eyes both Anne and Gemma, smirking as they scoff.

“He’s lucky he got me outside at all.” Gemma bounces on her toes as if to keep the blood flow through her body. “It’s freezing,” she whines.

Niall looks out at the hoarfrost covered hills and exhales; he can't tell if the steam in front of his mouth is from the hot coffee or his breath in the cold air.

A chicken darts out of the ajar barn door, catching Niall’s attention. Harry’s not long after with a bucket in each hand and four more chickens swarming his feet. Niall’s sure they’re pecking at his bobbing shoe strings in anticipation for their food and drink, but Harry’s smiling nonetheless and saying something to the hens that no one can hear but him.

“I love him,” Niall muses.

When he looks up, Anne and Gemma are smiling back at him.

“I can tell you do. And he loves you so dearly. Harry’s got such a big heart, so much love to give to you.”

Niall feels like something’s washed over him suddenly; something he’s always known, really, but something that comes back and hits him in waves at the smallest trigger.

“I’m gonna marry him,” Niall finally says. “Soon. I’m gonna propose to him. Probably after Christmas,” and then adds softly, “after his birthday… when he gets itching for something to celebrate again. He thinks every month deserves a holiday,” Niall chuckles to himself.

Anne coos something indistinguishable, and draws Niall to her so quickly and tightly that their coffee almost sloshes over the ceramic edges of their mugs. Over her shoulder, Gemma stands, still sipping, looking smug like she knew Niall was going to admit this to them all along.

“I hope you don’t mind me sticking around,” Niall chuckles, hugging Anne back. “I love him to death, though. You’d have to beat me off him with a stick at this point.”

“We’re glad to have you, Niall,” Gemma says, stepping in for a hug once Anne’s backed off to dry the tears welling in her eyes on the sleeve of her dressing gown. “Keep taking care of him.”

“I will.”

When Niall looks to the barn again, Harry is watching them with an unknowing yet endeared smile.

Gemma backs out of the hug a few moments later and playful threatens Niall as a breeze rolls down the porch. With a shiver she decides to go back inside, Anne trailing behind, just before Harry makes his way back toward the house.

Niall waits for him, shivering and jittering back and forth until Harry gets close enough to shout at him to go back inside.

“I’m waiting for you!” Niall yells back, teeth clattering uncomfortably. Harry shakes his head a couple of times and jogs the rest of the way, skipping up the stairs two at a time until he stands before Niall and puts his freezing hands on Niall’s bare arms.

“Go inside, darling. You’re freezing.”

“Here,” Niall says, forcing the warm mug into Harry’s hands. Harry sighs happily and holds it close to his face, feeling the smallest remnants of heat still radiating off of it. When he takes a sip he sputters, nearly choking.

“My lips are numb,” he laughs. “I almost spilled it all down my face.”

Niall chuckles, reaching up to catch his thumb on Harry’s bottom lip.

“Dunno why you’re yellin’ at me to get inside when you didn’t even take a coat with you,” he tsks. “We’re both gonna get sick.”

Harry humors Niall and doesn’t pull away from the thumb pressed to his lip.

“We should go back inside,” he mumbles.

Niall hums and nods, using the leverage of the rest of his fingers beneath Harry’s chin to tilt his head down and press their mouths together.

Harry whines when Niall pulls away seconds later, saying “we’re too cold, I could hardly feel you.”

Niall chuckles, letting go of Harry’s chin to turn and open the door for him.

“We’ll have to thaw out by the fire and try again, then.”

Harry smiles fondly, slinging one arm around Niall’s shoulders.

“I love having a fireplace,” he says, trying to stay attached to Niall’s hip as they go back inside, hitting a wall of heat as they step over the threshold.

“Me too,” Niall says. “Reminds me of my nan’s house.”

“Mhm. And it’s really nice to make lo--”

“You should stop that thought there,” Niall laughs, playfully nudging Harry away from him. “Don’t forget your family’s here.”

“I’ll be honest,” Harry drawls, “I already did.”

“They were literally just outside with us.”

“You make me forget everything,” Harry coos, reaching for Niall with both of his hands.

“Aw man, that’s _cheesy_ ,” Niall laughs, letting Harry grab onto him as he starts for the door toward the living room.

“No,” Harry whines softly, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Kiss me a little first,” he pleads, hugging Niall’s shoulders from behind.

“How can I do that if you’re behind me?”

Harry’s large hands grab Niall’s shoulders and turn him, pressing him against the wall beside the door. He kisses him before either can say anything else, and Niall lets Harry box him in, hold him still, and love up on him. Neither of them are too fond of PDA when their family is around-- except for when Harry’s had a bit too much wine-- so they have to rely on stolen moments for the next few days.

This moment doesn’t last too long, though. Gemma tries to come back into the kitchen right as Harry’s tongue starts tracing Niall’s bottom lip, and the door bounces off of their sides.

“Oh-- um? Hello?” she asks, trying to push the door open again, but gentler.

“Sorry,” Harry says after an incredibly obvious lip-parting smack. He and Niall shuffle away from the corner, and Harry pulls the door open while Niall rounds the counter and pretends to check on the coffee pot.

“Uh huh…” Gemma squints at Harry, but a tiny smirk tugs at her lips. She passes Harry and leans over the countertop, holding her mug out toward Niall.

“Could you pour me another cuppa, love?”

“Sure.” Niall complies but looks pointedly at anything but her face to prevent his cheeks from turning any shade of red.

Harry exits the room ahead of both of them, Gemma following just after. Niall takes a second to collect himself, flick through his phone and answer a message from his mum saying she’s excited to see him but nervous to get on a flight this evening. When Niall finally goes to the living room, he sees Harry snug between his mum and his sister and almost feels like he’s intruding.

“Hi, Ni,” Harry says, voice still soft and full of joy. Niall takes a seat across the couch from the trio and pulls his phone out of his pocket again. Harry watches him curiously and says something about Niall coming to sit with them, but Niall ignores him.

“Look at you all,” he says, taking a picture, “smiling exactly the same.”

Anne smiles proudly at her children, and Niall takes another picture, knowing she’d just _love_ to have that later. It’ll make a good Christmas card, Anne and her two babies: Gemma, and soon to be Mr. Styles-Horan.

♥♥♥

The next morning while Niall’s somewhere between being awake and asleep, he’s vaguely aware of Harry getting out of bed and walking around the room. Niall’s eyes are too bleary to see anything when he opens them, so he buries his face in his pillow and groans.

“Are you begrudgingly awake, my love?” Harry asks with a chuckle.

“Yes,” Niall huffs.

“You don’t have to be,” Harry says, closer than before. Harry slides his hand under the blanket and rubs Niall’s bare, warm back. “I’m gonna go pick up your parents from the airport.”

Niall jerks his head up and starts to turn over, but Harry laughs softly and pushes him back down. “Sleep, Niall, I can handle it. They’ll be here when you wake up.”

“What time is it? My alarm--”

“I woke up early and turned it off. It’s just about 5:30 now. You rest, I’m gonna go get them.” Harry leans down and kisses Niall’s cheek, then pulls away entirely, leaving Niall’s skin feeling cold and tingly, missing Harry’s touch.

“Thanks, pet,” Niall mumbles, pulling the covers tighter around him. He’s vaguely aware of Harry’s boot heels clacking lightly against the hardwood floors as he tries to sneak out of the room, but he loses the sound as he drifts back to sleep.

Some time later-- a few minutes or a few hours, Niall doesn’t know-- he’s startled awake again at the sound of his bedroom door opening.

“Harry’s still out, sleepyhead. Show me the ring.”

Niall mutters “later” in his sleep-thickened voice and rolls over, but Gemma lets herself in, walking around the room to open the curtains and look out the window.

“Just like your brother,” Niall groans, “throwing the curtains open and blinding me every bloody morning.

“How’d you know I have a ring already anyway?” he asks, throwing the blankets off of himself, very grateful for having thought to sleep in shorts the night before.

“You said you’d been thinking about asking my sweet baby brother to marry you for quite some time now, and I know you better than you seem to think I do. You already have a ring and you’ve been waiting for the right time to ask, yeah?” she asks, quirking her eyebrows up.

“It’s too early for you to be reading me like this, Gem. I’ve got no way to defend myself.”

Gemma laughs while Niall stretches and gives her a fond smile before shuffling off to retrieve the hidden ring. 

♥♥♥

At the airport, Maura and Bobby are excited to see Harry, and quite charmed when he explains that he left Niall to get some rest “‘cause he’s not used to being up so early and all.”

“He always did get grumpy if he didn’t get enough sleep,” Maura agrees.

“He still does, but I take good care of him,” Harry says, smiling proudly as he takes Maura’s bag to carry for her.

“Oh, I’m sure you do, sweetheart.

“How are you two lately?” she asks softly, trying to tiptoe gently into the turmoil of their relationship earlier in the year.

“Well they seem fine since they’re inviting us out for Thanksgiving, don’t they?” Bobby says to her. Harry smiles at him kindly for saying so, but he still answers Niall’s mother’s concern as he leads them to his car.

“We’re good lately,” he says genuinely. “Really, really good. He’s forgiven me and I think he’s starting to like our house and we’re all back to normal, so yeah. We’re perfect.”

“I don’t know why you two don’t just get married already,” she says, and Harry’s cheeks tinge pink. “Really, you’ve already got a house together, you work together, all that’s left is a wedding and some kids!”

“Maura, don’t scare the boy-- they’re just kids themselves.”

“They’re in their twenties, they’re the age we were when we got married. They’re the age Greg was when he got married!”

“We’re not exactly a shining example,” Bobby says, and Harry has to stifle a laugh.

“Oh, Bobby, really,” she scolds, “just because we’re not married anymore doesn’t mean anything about them. Niall’s much better at problem solving than we were, anyway.”

“I have been thinking about it,” Harry gently cuts her off as they wind through the parking garage, coming up to the boot of his car. He pauses to unlock the back and pop it open, putting Maura’s bag down inside.

The anticipation of what Harry meant by “it” proves too much for her.

_“And?”_

“Well,” Harry chuckles, “I just wonder what you two would think. If I asked Niall to marry me.”

Maura coos like Harry knew she would, and Harry watches Bobby grin as he puts his suitcase in the boot before closing it. 

“I knew it was coming,” Maura says. “I just _knew_ that one of ya were gonna ask us about it this trip.”

“You know you’re already part of the family, son,” Bobby adds, offering Harry a handshake which he accepts with a laugh. “You don’t need our permission, that boy’s all yours. Congratulations.”

“I haven’t asked him yet,” Harry says as they get into the car. “I’d rather keep it a bit of a secret, if you don’t mind, so please don’t say anything to him.

“I’ve been starting to look for a ring lately. I don’t want it to be a plain silver thing, but I don’t want it to be so over the top like what I wear. I want it to be something he’ll actually like; it’s harder than I thought it’d be! And bloody expensive.”

“Niall’s not too picky,” Maura says, “He’ll like whatever you give him.”

“You could propose with nothing and he’d still be thrilled, I’m sure,” Bobby agrees.

The conversation continues for nearly the entire ride back to the farm before Harry finally manages to steer the conversation toward the farm itself and their plans for it. He sees more chickens and a couple of goats and cow!-- oh, how he wants that cow, "but Niall is firmly against it at the moment."

Once they’re finally home, Harry insists on carrying their bags in much like Niall insisted on carrying Anne and Gemma’s bags the day before. Speaking of, as Harry and Niall’s parents enter the house, Niall and Harry’s family greets them at the door with hugs and smiles all around, giving Harry a minute to sneak away and drop Maura’s bag in her room and Bobby’s suitcase in his.

Going back downstairs, Harry finds the families streaming toward the dining room. As Harry reaches the bottom of the staircase, Niall comes out of the kitchen, shouldering the door as he carefully carries a hot pan of food, Gemma following him with pitchers of water and orange juice.

“Can I grab anything?”

“We’ve just got the last of it, Haribo.”

Every place at the table is set and people are finding seats when Harry follows his sister into the room. He grins, standing in the doorway, watching Niall and Gemma pour drinks as their parents settle in.

“C’mon, Harry, sit,” Niall says, noticing that he isn’t already filing in. Niall points toward the head of the table and motions like he’s shooing him.

“No, you sit there.”

Niall insists, though, taking Harry’s hand and guiding him to the chair. “You wanted a full house, you should get the best seat.”

Harry sits and looks down the long table at Gemma on the other side. She gives him a smile and raises her glass to him slightly before sipping her orange juice. Maura and Anne sit between them on Harry’s left, Bobby near Gemma on the right side of the table, and Niall-- finally-- sits to Harry’s right, immediately tangling their feet beneath the table.

“We made breakfast while you were gone,” Niall says to him as their guests start passing around dishes. “You still have your location shared with me so I knew about how long it’d take you to get back. Food should still be hot and everything.”

“That’s sneaky but also very thoughtful of you, Niall,” Harry coos, rubbing his ankle against Niall’s. “Thank you, darling.”

This really is everything Harry wanted. Having a big house full of love and Niall by his side-- Harry never wants this to end.

♥♥♥

A couple days later when Thanksgiving dinner is nearly ready, Harry thinks he might actually be ready for this to end after all. Maybe just take a short break before he rips all his hair out.

The mashed potatoes are already done and getting cold, and the rolls are burnt because the timer on the oven doesn’t work, and the turkey somehow isn’t done even though it’s been in for half an hour longer than it was supposed to be, and the apple, cherry, and pumpkin pies Harry prepped last night haven’t even been baked yet. And that’s not even half of it.

Niall tries to calm him, giving him reassuring pets and soft praises as he handles more at once than he ever has before, but eventually it stops helping so Niall rounds up the family and gives them tasks, forcing Harry to accept the help. They had all been eager to assist, but Harry insisted he could handle _one meal_ one his own, but a Thanksgiving feast is too much for any one person.

Niall sends Bobby out to round up the chickens and put them in the barn to quell Harry’s forlorn glances at the setting sun, Anne and Maura take dishes and silverware to the dining room to set the table, and Niall starts collecting dirty dishes from the countertops.

“Niall can you--” Harry asks, spinning around to look at Niall. His eyes are wide, his hair sticking out around his head, sweat beading on his forehead all caused by a mix of panic, stress, and frantic work.

“Doing dishes, pet,” Niall says as soothingly as he can. He also nods his head backward towards Gemma who stands at the bar fiddling with a wine bottle opener.

“Gemma! Can you help me put the pies in the oven?”

“That sounds like a one-person job, but yes, of course. What can I do?”

“Get them out of the fridge please and hand them to me. I have to move the turkey and I just don’t have enough hands!”

“Pet, why don’t you take the turkey out and check it with the new thermometer in the bottom drawer? That little plastic one is probably just defective, I’m sure it’s done by now.”

Harry agrees with Niall, mumbling under his breath that it _better_ be done by now or he’s canceling dinner and living with the chickens.

There’s a bit of shuffling to be done to get Gemma to the fridge to get the pies, allow Harry to get the meat thermometer from the drawer by Niall’s ankle, and allow Niall to continue cleaning as more messes are made, but they make do by staying completely out of Harry’s way any time he steps toward them.

Harry lifts the turkey out of the oven and panics when there’s no room on the stovetop for him to set it down, so Niall rushes forward, suds from the sink still clinging onto his wrists, and moves a pot of potatoes onto the counter and the macaroni onto a back burner. Harry finally puts the turkey down, Gemma gets the pies in the oven, and Niall goes back to the sink to pull the plug and let the dirty water drain.

Harry sticks the thermometer into the turkey and the trio gathers around with baited breath to see if the temperature will rise to 165F.

“160…” Harry mumbles.

“It’s still going, it’s just slow,” Gemma whispers, rubbing her brother’s back.

“162… 163…”

“It’s gonna reach it, pet.”

“We don’t know that--”

“165,” Gemma says. “It’s fine. Look, it’s still going! 166. 167. It’s officially done, Haribo.”

“Oh thank god,” Harry sighs, snatching the thermometer out of the turkey as he slouches back against the counter, visibly letting out the tension from his shoulders.

“Well I’m all soaked from the washing up,” Niall says, wiping his damp hands on his already wet shirt. “I’m gonna go upstairs and change. I’ll be right back.”

“Hurry back,” Harry says, catching Niall to peck a kiss on his cheek before he goes.

“You’re not trying to get out of carving the turkey, are you?” Gemma teases.

“Not at all,” Niall laughs, pushing through the swinging door, “but I bet Harry wouldn’t mind if he got a chance to hack at it after what it’s put him through.”

Niall takes the stairs quickly and unbuttons his flannel shirt as he goes. The white t-shirt beneath is soaked as well, so by the time he walks into his bedroom at the end of the hall, he’s untucked it and started to pull it over his head.

Niall opts for one of his go-to navy dress shirts and while buttoning it, he can’t help but stare at the trunk of winter coats on the floor beneath the clothing rack. Nervously, Niall glances at the open closet door before crouching down to dig through the chest for something small, something square, something velvety.

Niall puts out the ring box from the exact place he left it last and sighs in relief. Almost every day Niall checks to make sure nothing has been disturbed, to make sure Harry hadn’t found his secret hiding spot yet.

Niall leaves the closet and sits at the edge of the bed on the side Harry sleeps on, flicking the box lid open. He examines the ring’s double silver band and the oval opal perched in the center for any imperfections even though at this point he knows this ring like the back of his hand. Niall knew Harry liked interesting rings more than classic rings, and this one seemed to have Harry’s name all over it when Niall found it in a bespoke jewelers when they still lived in LA last year.

Niall compares his ring with one of Harry’s favorites which, today, he’s left sitting on his bedside table. He holds the bands together carefully to check that they’re the same size, and then he slips them onto two of his own fingers to see how they compliment each other.

“Niall,” Harry calls from the top of the stairs. “Did you get lost? We’re about to start dinner.”

“Yeah,” he shouts back, smiling down at the rings as he slides them off, putting Harry’s favorite back on his nightstand and the engagement ring in his pocket. “I’ll be down in a mo'.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe...it took me a year to write more of the farm au. To everyone who waited for this, thank you for your patience. You can talk to me about it here or on [tumblr](http://narryblossom.tumblr.com).


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